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Drew R.

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(no subject) [Oct. 6th, 2006|02:31 am]
[music |The Future Sound of London]

Dear readers,

I told a friend recently in a mix CD tracklisting that accompanied the mixes I made for her that one of the songs, Aphex Twin's "Xtal", made me remember a certain time in my life, a time I couldn't describe in words, but I would give her the song and explain later. I suppose in essence, that's what this entry is about- trying to get you to gain a feeling for my life in the past six or seven months. Oh, we all know there will be lame metaphors, references to hip-hop lyric, and l will end up sounding like i'm trying too hard to be profund/witty/douchy/ambivalent. But hey, I'm in, and if you're reading this, you are most likely in too, at least for the time being.

To begin with, this summer was amazing on so many levels. For about half of the summer, I was in D.C., working as an orientation leader. It was a great job, that helped build my confidence and made me close to my coworkers. The OL staff, composed of undergrads, really bonded, and I think that was more extraordinary than having students listen to me, meeting tons of faculty members, or getting paid $7.50 an hour. I truly loved spending time with them and getting to know these eighteen or so dudes and dudettes, who came from much less homogenous backgrounds than a lot of my friends. For awhile it felt that I was the living embodiment of a Katrina and the Waves song, fully feeling as if I was walking on sunshine (whoa-oh). Many people often say that at their finest moment, they felt like they were on top of the world. Well, I didn't. I had arguably a better feeling, a feeling that I was still in the world, not above it, and that's a better thing to have than to be high above this beautiful place. My time at home was also quite the accomplishment. I was able to read a great deal for pleasure, watch films that I had wanted to watch or rewatch for awhile, and write, working on a short story, along with a short film screenplay. I also worked on a rap record, played 21 nearly four times a week, and became somewhat of a Guitar Hero. Spending time with hometown friends and doing things that I only do back home made me grateful for what I have, especially down in Delray. Up here at college again, I seem to miss my friends from home much more this year. It's hard to explain, but just know that some of you truly mean the world to me, even if this message doesn't get to you, for whatever reason. My creative nonfiction piece for my Creative Writing class was about my experiences at home this summer, and it felt really good to put my thoughts down on paper. I don't how many more summers we'll have together, but at least I'll always have this summer, even it's only in nostalgia.

Moving on, my return to academia has, so far, been an overall success. My classes all provoke my interest, and maybe it has something to do with them all beginning after 11 a.m., but I think it's just great subject matter. I have a Visual Literacy class that works as a basic overview of the visual arts, such as photography, web design, and film and video. I also am taking basic photography, which is very time-consuming, and yet also very rewarding so far. I seem to find a lot of peace in my long affairs with the darkroom, and to see a completed work of art of mine, no matter the quality, is a feeling not paralleled very often. I'm enrolled in "Hollywood in the 1970s", which is an absolute stunner of a class. It's a delight, discussing great pieces of cinema with an intelligent class and a wonderful professor, leaving each class with a better understanding of why I want to do what I want to do. I'm in a Intro Creative Writing class, which may be my favorite part of my schedule, mostly because I get to write a lot. Writing almost every day is such a cathartic release for me, and I have worked on almost ten short pieces of creative nonfiction in the past month and a half. I seem to be having a love affair with words, as lame as it sounds, but fuck man, I really enjoy creative writing, as my eloquency probably illustrates. Finally, I'm taking Great Experiments in Biology, which is by far the black sheep of my schedule, but I have to say, even a fair amount of the class interests me, particularly genetics. Having a roommate who is Pre-Med and really loves science helps me appreciate the astonishing nature of science. I do seem to be quite busy this semester, much more so than last year. Between classes, working on The Eagle, our student newspaper, and my own intramural indoor soccer team, I'm working pretty hard, but I know I can do more without totally breaking my back, and that's pretty ace to know.

I have begun pre-production work on my TV show for the college television station, tentatively titled "Makeout Party with Drew Rosensweig." It's rather interesting, time-consuming, and somewhat frustrating, but I really feel like this is something I want to do in my life. The show is a late-night talk show, blending elements of a sitcom and improv. Some would call it a sitprov. I would prefer if they didn't. Sometimes you have to go out on a limb, and while this isn't the mightiest of oak branches, it's still something new for me to do and work on. As host/writer/director, it's going to be a pretty fair amount of work. But I have some amazing help from friends, and I really think the world needs Drew Rosensweig playing a douchebag talk show host. Because, you see, I'm not usually a talk show host, at least in this life.

In other Drew-media news, my radio show is five alive again, heard only on Wvau.org, Sunday nights from midnight to 2 a.m. I have grown accustomed to the late time slot, as my brother now can listen to the show on the West Coast, and my mood is somewhat different late at night/early in the morning. I think there may be forays into 70s German prog-metal and twenty-minute long ambient techno sets, but don't worry- there's enough New Edition to still go around. It's also about the only time I ever sign onto my screen name, so it's prime time to converse via the World Wide Web and listen to my deeply foppish voice at the same time. Forward, technology!

One of the most amazing discoveries, or perhaps realizations of this year is that I've come to find that the thing that probably most interests me is myself. It sounds narcissistic and egotistic, and you'll probably think it is (though I shouldn't make assumptions about you), but it's true. I'm amazed at what I do, what I say, and everything that drives me. I know I'm a dick, I know I say the wrong things, and I know I wear a lot of my heart on my track jacket's sleeve. But I suppose that's me, and I constantly devote thought to what I am. Most probably don't know this, but I believe in the concept of a soul, and while the scientific community will deny it, it's one of the few things I have faith in, besides that I will always cry at the end of "Au Hasard Balthazar" and boots on a girl will make my stomach feel a little funny. I think I've lived previous lives, and I think that I'm reincarnated to become a more complete and better spirit. Whether I do the "right thing" or the "wrong thing", I really like to gain from my experiences, and wonder why I do what I do. As Wings of Desire asks, why am I me and not you? It sounds like philosophical bullshit, but as my film professor said when a student asked why we even bothered asking questions about a film's meaning, if we don't bother, we might as well go home. I think I just want to understand myself, but I suppose it's like trying to understand "Tangled Up in Blue": you could spend a whole lifetime, or perhaps a few lifetimes, and you could never fully grasp it.

Excuse me for perhaps being trite, but I was driving in my pops' car the last week of summer and listening to General Public's "Tenderness" (which you may recognize from the "Weird Science" soundtrack, and I stopped at a light on Federal Highway. All of a sudden, I began to think about this place, my home. Delray, Boynton, Boca, even Hypoluxo, it's really a great place to have been birthed and raised. And it's sad to think that it may all be gone in a decade, if global warming keeps on keepin' on. If it's the truth, an inconvenient one at that, then I will be sad. It's understatement, but it's hard to imagine all of my childhood memories, my former schools, my house and my friend's houses underwater. Will it be like it never happened? They probably won't write in history books about the time we used golf clubs to hit rocks into the Intercoastal, or that amazing game of Loaded Questions we played on the beach, or even about the countless nights I've spent at the Garbarino residence. I know that they will reside in my memories and others memories, and I don't know how it's any different than any other case of not wanting to forget the past, but sometimes it really gets me down.

But there's so much to do, and so much to look forward to, besides a new day. This Thanksgiving break, I'm trekking to New Hampshire to stay with my friend in Exeter. Most excitedly, they have a dog named Bailey, and I intend to cuddle with that pooch as much as possible. Also, there may be some sledding, an act that has always seemed so exotic and rapturous to me, mostly because of "Calvin and Hobbes." I am almost definitely going to study abroad in Prague next fall, studying at, honest to Sam Cooke, a bona fide film school. What an experience it hopefully will be. I also may do a summer-long internship program in Hollywood the summer after my junior year, giving me a chance to do chimney sweep-esque work on a film set and indulge in the L.A. life, seeing if it truly is the right fit for me after college. If that plan falls through, then I may just hike the Appalachian Trail, from Maine to West Virginia, with some of my friends the whole summer. It's would be really hard to pass up an experience like that. And then, after college, to perhaps begin work on my own feature-length film- goodness, the places I'll go. But to echo what my good friend Jeff said in a recent Livejournal post, that's all in the future, way ahead in the future, so I must get back to just appreciating tomorrow. And when tomorrow becomes today, then I'll look forward to the next tomorrow, that will soon turn into another today, and eventually, become a yesterday.

To be honest, I don't really know where I'm going, or how far I'm going, but at least I'm going. I just sit here looking at my hands type, glancing at the words and ideas I'm producing, and I smile, as if I were reading a "Cathy" comic strip (Aaack!) There's so much I love in this world, and it's almost horrible that I can't relate it fully to you in this entry. But maybe that's the way it should be, because it just wouldn't be right if we all knew what made each other tick. I guess it doesn't really matter if I'm happy or sad; I'm living this life, and there's not much more I could ask for.

Love,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [Feb. 24th, 2006|02:38 am]
[music |Kate Bush]

I won't make this entry too long. Lord knows, not every entry must look like the working manuscript to Ulysses (in length only. Joyce, as well as King Kong, ain't got shit on me.)

Maybe I am writing because I now seem to always go to bed at 4 or later, which affects me quite adversely, considering that I have 8:30 classes 4 days a week, including tomorrow. Or perhaps I am really going for the gusto and trying to update more than once a semester. Besides, I love writing to you, the reader, and letting you know all the wonderful things happening in my life.

My scholarly endeavors are still endearing to me, with classes that are write the book on fun! I have American Society on Stage and Screen, which is a very interesting class that is a great introduction to American theater, as well as a breeding ground for discussion on, well, society. Evolution of Jazz and Blues is much more engrossing than I ever thought it would be, and my Roots of Racism class has far surpassed my expectations for the class. Writing for Mass Communications has probably my best professor, is interactive, and allows me to do some straight up journalism, something that still holds a place in my heart, even if I switched majors. Also, I get to bro down with two of my best buds Monday and Thursday mornings at 8:30.And Microeconomics is, very, very suprisingly, not too bad. Of course, I have four midterms next week, so we'll check up on my position on school in a fortnight.

I have had a chance to play soccer with friends for the past three Fridays. I love soccer. I really did miss the game, and playing an hour long pick-up game with some talented strangers a few weeks ago was the most fun I've had on turf since my JV field hockey days. I love soccer.

Tomorrow night, I plan on performing, as per usual, at Open Mic Night. This biweekly event has become a cherished part of my American experience. There are ruminations that I, along with my friend Samya singing her little lungs out, and my friend Joe beatboxing his brains out, will be rapping Kanye's "Heard Em Say." While this may not stand the test of Open mic time, or compare with my past selections such as "Bombs Over Baghdad" or Fall Out Boy's "Sugar, We're Goin Down," this should make for a beautiful act.

On a sensual note, my radio show has finally hit it's magnificent stride. I really feel like my playlists have as become as diverse as possible while not feeling too strained, and more and more people (mostly frien ds who I ask) seem to be listening. My Valentine's Day show brought an honest joy to my heart, spinning two hours of love songs and dedicating Smokey Robinson and The Miracles jams to my parents. If you haven't checked it out yet, go to WVAU.org and click "listen live", every Tuesday from 6-8 p.m.

Being here at college, I really have just begun to question so many aspects of my life and society, and this is a spectacular thing. I have given much thought to where I stand politically, what I think about race and gender (are they social constructs? Can they be defeated? Will Andy ever stop talking about this? LOLZ), and what I hold as supreme beliefs that are intricate to my individuality. Don't get me wrong, I still spend a lot of time thinking about scoring sick goals and ramrodding Scarlett Johansson, but through discussions with peers and professors, I have just opened my mind up to so many new queries.

Abby, Sara, and Whitney visited me almost a month ago, and I had a ball with them. Scrapping, yelling, and clubbing, I can honestly say those ladies made my National Conference on Organized Resistance weekend. I love when friends come to visit. Speaking of, if you are reading this, come to DC. We'll go hunting with Cheney and try to break Borf out of jail. It'll be a blast.

Yes Arianne, I am saving up money to come to Boston after spring break. While we're on the topic of spring break, which for me is March 10th-19th, I am excited to come home, and I'm bringing a compatriot. We plan to rock Miami, the Everglades, Rod Stewart's home, possibly Disney, possibly Busch Gardens, and obviously beach. Let's show my friend Florida's finest. Fuck, let's face it, I'll probably just be at the Garbarino residence every night.

Anyways, I hope everyone out there is doing well. Since I haven't posted it yet, here's my mailing address:

Letts Hall#014
4400 Massachusetts Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20016

Send me something, please, because I am sure getting sick of opening my mailbox and finding my roommate's fucking Golf World magazine.

Take care everyone, stay strapped, and holla at cha boy, if you ever get a chance.

Love,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [Jan. 13th, 2006|03:35 am]
[music |Futureheads (As remixed by Max Tundra)]

Hello,

I will save the introduction that involves me apologizing for not updating his livejournal and keeping all the people who care about what I am feeling (over/under: 2) from knowing what is going on in my life. I don't know why I was struck with inspiration at this early, early point in the morning, time that over the past three weeks has been spent watching "The Adventures of Pete and Pete" on DVD or playing Fifa 2006 on my preowned Gamecube (I fancy Blackburn, for all you FA Premier fans.) But I suppose that this inspiration is what I thrive on, not only as a writer, but as an avid fan of life. (Insipidly pretentious much, Drew?)

Anyways, I won't pretend to pool my thoughts in a respectable and precise manner, nor will I stoop to formulating my experiences in list form, as I have in the past. And sorry to all those fans of my hot bod and my hot friends, but no photos this time (you can still comment in bold stating "LJ CUT PLZ!111", if it makes you feel any better.) No, I think I am just going to throw out some things that I have been thinking about, along with anything that pops into my mind at this otherworldly time of the hour.

Frankly, I adore college. My first semester was better than I think I could have ever expected. From the beginning, I struck upon a friends group that rivaled my amazing friends that I have here in South Florida. The birthday party I had the second week of school may still be one of my favorite memories of the past year. To have so many great people with me already, in a new, foreign place, made my heart melt, much like the Nazis' faces at the end of "Raiders of the Lost Ark." My experiences over the next four months were a treasure trove of exalted excellency. House parties at Porter street, excursions to the dog park to doob, 80s dance night at the Black Cat, Trapped in the Closet viewings- name it; I probably did it. Well, maybe not that far, but I have had some wonderful times. Even just going to dinner every night, from big to small group, well, it always made for at least some entertainment in the day, even if it interrupted my late afternoon nap.

Besides the friends aspect, I didn't do too shabby in other facets of the collegiate life. I did very well, at least for my standards, in my classes, and these courses were for the most part, great. My film class was my favorite, and very much affirmed my decision to pursue film as a career instead of journalism. My teacher, I think, seemed to really like me, and my two best papers that I wrote this year were for that class. My paper arguing Spike Lee's advocation of self-segregation by the black community in Do The Right Thing was probably the most thought-provoking thing I have written academically so far in my life. My Eastern religion class was very interesting, and while it perhaps didn't lead to my spiritual awakening, it made me realize that many of the things I already believe seem to be parts, major to minor, of various religions, from Hinduism to Daoism to Buddhism. My stats class proved to be, amazingly, a success, at least gradewise, after a last minute cram session. If anything, the class was a great outlet for my nostalgia, as I often thought about past times in the hour alloted to the period. My mass media and Washington D.C. history courses proved to be somewhat frustrating, as there could have been so much more that came about from the classes, but there were a few high points during the semester from each.

I have really gotten into table tennis and football (soccer, swine-o). I play ping pong probably 5 times a week at night, usually with my friend Josh who is on the tennis team. He beat me probably 420 times before I finally topped him the last night I was in D.C. It's quite the enchanting game, you really should give it a try. And ever since I got Fifa for my gamecube, I have become immersed in the world of futbol. I am memorizing the European leagues, and my Sam Cooke, I am am getting quite amped for the World Cup this year. I hope to get an intramural team going next year with some friends.

Of course, there are some days when I just want to stop taking any classes and just focus on film. Part of me wants to jump into filmmaking right now, learn more and more of the basics, pound out a script, and direct my first opus. I know that this is nothing more than pipe dreams (I mean, I'm a barber's son), and I really would like to continue my schooling, which I of course will. But it's sort of weird, this desire to do this with my life, it's the first time I have really known what I want in life, at least occupation-wise. I thought I would just want to be a screenwriter, but I realize I want to direct as well. I would see a great film, such as Umberto D or The Third Man or The 400 Blows, and I am so motivated to get out there and do something about my love for film. I luckily enough already did a film with three of my great friends up here, and it won a small award, but the important thing was how much fun it was, and how good, in my opinion, it turned out, in just three days of production and editing. I am working on a script, based on an article I read in ESPN Magazine one, possibly two years ago, about the shit life a professional bowler lives, with expenses and constant traveling. It isn't just about that of course; it includes some of the stuff I see my mom facing with her siblings dealing with our grandmother's worsening health condition, as well as the loneliness that comes with the road and the will to live when the only thing one has done for the past twenty years isn't going to be enough to put food on the table very soon. It is a tough project, as I am definitely not writing something that, right now, is part of my life, and the main character is twenty years older than me, in a world I am not used to, but it really challenges me. Also, I am in no rush to finish it, so I have a good three years to work on it, and hopefully something will come of it.

Coming back to Florida after being gone for four months was not as weird as I thought it would be. Maybe I feared my family would be different, or my friends would have changed, or Delray would have been invaded by pod people, a la Invasion of the Body Snatchers, but my fears were soon squashed. This is my home, my original state of origin, and it is truly a wonderful place, above all else. My friends are refreshingly great, from Austin singing emo while speeding, to Noah's house being a haven of video games and Petey Plane, to Vinh still being money after all these years, to Keith being still the ox I remember him as. New year's eve was a blast, even if I didn't get nearly drunk enough out of responsibility. Having 12 to 15 of your best friends at your house and having them get rip-roaringly pissered, for the most part, is an experience that I recommend to all of you. Well, maybe not, but I enjoyed it, if only for that night.

There's mu family, who I have learned to appreciate tenfold. I don't know I respect anyone more than my dad, for he truly is made from the finest salt, and there really is nothing more I would ever want from a father. I can talk to him about anything, and he puts up with offensive comment after offensive comment from me, even laughing at the lot of them. He accepts my mix CDs with happiness, endures my constant questions about the past, and loves watching old films with me. Basically, he is legit, is the best sense of the word. My mom and I get into way more quarrels than I get into with my dad, but that's what we are. She has my utmost respect when it comes to how hard she has worked to get to where she is, and her work ethic is something I wish I had a tenth of. I probably get a lot from her, which is why she may annoy me, as she also loves to entertain and be "wacky." But when it comes down to it, she is always, and I mean, always, there for me. Then there's my brother, who really may be the best person I know, and I truly know some of the best people in the world. Over the past five years, we have become so much closer, and I can't really explain it in words, at least through typing, but we just have this amazing bond. All I will say is that watching Pete and Pete with him at 3 am may be some of the most transcendental experiences of my life.

And yet, I am still in a weird place in my life. Since most of my college chums went up to my Florida schools last week, it has been pretty boring here. I miss my friends in D.C. I no longer have just one friends group, but two, living, beautiful ones. There has been some mingling between the two- I mean, Whitney dates Andy, Abby has a kindred spirit in Jeff, and Arianne is in love with Gardner- but they are for the most part, two seperate entities, binded together only by friendship to me. I don't really know how to expound on that.

Looking back on the past brings up some interesting questions. Did I really date two Allisons? Did I actually enjoy Trail of Dead at one point of my life? Did I ever think I would be so happy at a school called American? Of course these things happenend, and gratefully so. Those girlfriends gave me some great times, that Trail of Dead album granted me happiness for a month sophomore year, and deciding nonchalantly to visit a patriotic-sounding school in D.C. the summer after junior year made for the perfect concoction of academia. I guess I never really expected any of this, but Dickens can keep his expectations. I am perfectly content for life, which is really an adorable thing (most of the time). If you do spend an hour reading this, I thank you, and even if we don't talk nearly enough as you and I both know we should, I want you to know I think of you guys. I am happy you have found new boyfriends/girlfriends, or are still with the same wonderful boyfriend/girlfriend. I am excited that you got into a college you wanted to, or are thinking of coming to college in D.C. Even if we didn't cross paths in the past six months, or are in a foreign land, or have moved on from the world of online journals, I hope you are finding what you want in life.

Sincerely,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [Sep. 15th, 2005|09:05 pm]
[music |Ira Lee]

Howdy,

I bet readers out there have a few questions. Drew, where have you been, baby? Didn't you say we were going to have many updates during summer? What did you think of the O.C. premiere?

Well, to answer those questions: I am in the nation's teet, Washington D.C., I got bored with updating my life this summer, and I gave up The O.C. for lent. I know I sort of seem like the douchecock father in "Angels In The Outfield," trying to come back into your lives as if I never left. Kids, I'm sorry I have neglected you, but you got to understand, I was spending my time this summer playing Scene-It, riding the Carousel of Moskow, and summer flinging. Sometimes, though, one must step off of the sidelines and enter the game, if not for himself, than for his team and fans. Fuck, this analogy is weak. I need to pick it up writing-wise, or this comeback is going to be more underwhelming than "The Godfather III." I suppose I'll forego anymore shoddy attempts at eloquence and cut to the giblets.

I am deeply in love with college. American University is a wonderful place, and living in the nation's capital is pretty darn groovy. The Mall at night is absolutely beatiful, brimming with fresh new makeout spots and statues of dead people. Dupont Circle, besides being gayer than um, the majority of the guys at my school, is a beautiful melting pot of homeless people, makeshift street salsa bands, and trendy wrap restaurants. I am getting much better at using the Metro system, and it takes only 20 minutes to get into downtown D.C., while experiencing the wonderful sight and stench of the commuters of the District. Pretty nifty.

So what about my school? The campus actually is very pretty, and my living arrangements are more than adequate. My classes are pretty interesting, especially my Cinema and Eastern Religion courses, but there is a fair amount of work and reading that I have to do if I want to get those lovely marks that I need. The people here, overall, are so nice and warm (even the Republicans), which is quite refreshing compared to my past schooling experiences. I feel quite content with the fact that less than a month into school I already have a solid group of wonderful friends. I am getting rather politically active, and as Abby would say, I'm becoming a decent radical. Let me make the point that I am not homesick, but more so wish my great friends from home could come and experience the blazing good times I'm having here. What have you missed out on, you may ask?
- I am in Food Not Bombs, where we cook up vegan meals on Sunday afternoons and then let the homeless come chow down on them in the city.
- I am slowly working on writing the nine stories required to be a member of the Eagle newspaper staff. I already did a pretty exquisite review of Kanye's new album (dig the beats, fuck the rhymes, save Cam'ron's verse).
- I checked out a frat party the first week, and besides it being dreadfully overcrowded, boring, and taking 30 minutes to get a beer, it was a balls-out blast.
- I may have a radio show as soon as the end of September. I'll let everyone know so you can hear my charming voice again over the Internet, as well as piles and piles of Brazilian folk and Hungarian funk.
- I have played more than enough Bocci, day and night.
- I have already ripped it up at karoake. Re:
- I'm going to the big anti-war protest on the 24th, and that should be royally awesome.
- I had an amazing birthday celebration that lasted about 5 days, culminating in a formalwear dinner, where we took prom pictures in the quad.
- I have gone to a few upperclassman house parties, which are pretty fun. They even had wine and sangria, and I participated in a real, true to life, scene party.
- I had my first wasted experience, which has been the only shit thing so far here at AU, reminding me why I never wanted to get wasted. Arising from slumber in your own puke, unlike Folger's in your cup, is definitely not the best part of waking up.
- I went to a cool local show at a small radical club, and I brought the mosh.
- I participated in a mock protest and then feigned injury to help these street medics practice their methods on us. Words can't describe how stupendous this was.
- I haven't fucked any drunk girls. Maybe kissed. But it was only a kiss. It was only a kiss. (Ok, I really stretched the truth to have a Killers reference.)

But hey, enough of my yakkin'; whaddaya say? Let's boogie. (Excuse the size of the photos, I don't know/care yet how to edit photos on my new iBook.)

The District sleeps alone tonight. LOLZ, I quoted Postal Service! )


Anyways, my love is with everyone who reads this, and always feel free to call me or IM me or love me or do whatever you want/need with me.

Love,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [Jun. 28th, 2005|12:36 am]
[music |Vashti Bunyan]

Herro,

Eschewing the recurring "Drew's excruciating memories that aren't that very interesting" format of entries past, I bring you an entry dedicated to my trip to Japan.

What can I say? Japan was Japamazing! For serious kids, there is not a more beautiful country in the world, or at least I haven't been to it yet(which leaves about 350 countries). There people are so courteous and kind-hearted, compared to America, where we are all mean-spirited prostitutes. And the scenery there is so serene, it warms the heart like "The Fox and The Hound." I'm not a very religious man, but going to many temples and meeting a handful of monks, who seem to earnestly enjoy life to the fullest extend, well, that made for a very spiritual experience. Mountains that rise out of the canvas of the Earth like Queen Latifah's milk bottles rise out of her chest- it's truly an outrageous sight. More fish than "Finding Nemo," more Asians than a Tran family reunion, and more random Engrish words put on a shirt that seemingly make no sense (i.e. "Black Jesus Voice") than anywhere I've ever been.

I still don't understand Pachinko.


I'm an amazing lucky person. My dad, through living there and working closely with the country over the years, had amassed many connections and friends, that we used and met over the trip. Watching my dad in action, fluent in Japanese, makes me want to continue learning Espanol until I am excelente enough to kick it in a Spanish-speaking country. I really want to see more of the world, as well, because of my experiences in a wonderful foreign land. I guess I'll have to wait until I study abroad during college (if I make it to there, Sam Cooke-willing.)

But I'm getting off topic; who wants some pictures? Be warned, I am a writer/drewchebag, not a photographer, so my photos are nowhere near the caliber of some of the people on my friends list. Also, there are a lot of photos here, like over 100, so if you have to get to an orthodontist appointment or are going through labor, I wouldn't advise you to click on this approaching livejournal cut. You don't have to look at the photos, for, like Rush, I will always choose freewill. But I think you'll find some good shots, that rise from the piles of drudge. I don't know, do what ever you may, it's probably more entetaining than any of my other entries that feature only my hacknyed writing. Domo!

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Japancakes )


I hope you enjoy, and I wish you greetings from the East.

Love,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [Jun. 6th, 2005|12:15 am]
[music |Scritti Politti]

For the kids keeping track out there, the next entry in my memories collection was supposed to be freshman year. And perhaps I'll get to that in this entry. But as of this word, I am pretty tired. I've packed up for my trip to Boston which departs tomorrow. My brother graduates college on Thursday, and that's sort of weird. I don't know why, it's inevitable, but maybe now the brother who always still seemed like a kid, well, now he is an adult. Or maybe this is the Adderall talking.

First and foremost, my family reunion was exquisite. I can honestly say I adore everyone who went on the trip. Aside from the last night, when the tarp flew off my tent and all my stuff got soaked, it was a perfect time. Hell, I got a new cell phone out of the whole deal (If you are reading this, call my cell- it's still the same number 715-5740, so I can get your number again.) I will talk about this more in detail at a later point, but just know that I had a wonderful time, and I hope everyone else who went did, as well.

Summer has gone well so far, everything I could have wanted really. Carlo's party was a pretty outrageous time, and we won't go into the details, but I left his house in the morning with a new sense of peace and one of my friend's sisters liking me. Scratch the former actually, keep the latter. It's sad though, because I'm away for basically the next three weeks. I come back from Boston, stay here for two days (hopefully spend one last night with my Czech buddy), and then it's off to Japan. Don't get me wrong, that will be an amazing trip, but I am missing some prime hanging out with my friends down here while gone. I just hope they don't forget about me (Emo moment! Yes!). If you want postcards, please just give me your address, and I will write to you honey.


So anyways, freshman year...yeah. I really can't remember much, probably because it was the shittiest year of high school. It wasn't really that bad, I just didn't do much. My best friends from middle school all went to new schools, and that royally sucked. I truly jumped around friends groups, never really finding a place. I became close friends with Mike P. (re: elementary school entry) again, which entailed hanging out with underclassman jocks sometimes. All of my classes were easy, so I wasn't challenged much. The one outlet I had was band, which really granted me my first friends. Some seniors took me under their wing, which was much appreciated, and I ate lunch in the bandroom everyday. That's what my first semester of freshman year was like.

There are two classes that really stand out in my mind as important to me from that year. There was biology class, with all freshman, and it really was the epitome of worthless. If there ever was a microcosm of what freshman are like, this was it. People were trying to find their place, and Lordy, did they try hard. I often watched the other kids in the class, and it amazed me at how immature we all still were. You know, you come to high school, and it's a big leap. Girls have breasts now, you hear about sex, and girls and guys are now totally into each other, hugging and giving each other backrubs in class. Your teachers don't seem to care what you do, as long as you aren't bothering them. And with this whole experience, one feels as if they are now old and mature. But the truth is, from my vantage point, we were just middle schoolers trying to cope with this new freedom, this new world. Whether talking about how they drank last weekend, or gave head to a senior, or even didn't do their homework because they just didn't care, I heard and saw it all. I suppose we, freshman, were all trying to learn how to walk straight, only most of us had a broken shoe to practice with.

The other important class was geometry. I had a great time in that class, and I couldn't say that about many classes I had that year. Dr. Zacharias is easily one of my favorite teachers I have ever had, and without her, my math grade would have been nowhere near where she made it become. I also met Andrew and Noah in that class, and needless to say, that was a rather important event in my high school life. I thought they were cool, Andrew with his "Somebody Loves Me In New Jersey" t-shirt, and Noah's references to Tale Spin, Even Stevens, and other kid shows that I remembered/still watched. They were really nice to me, and when one of the defining moments of my time at Atlantic was early in the school year, when Andrew said "N*Sync has some phat beats", and I couldn't contain my laughter. And with that, I started talking to these "cool" older guys. Becoming friends with them led me to start eating lunch with them second semester outstide the bandroom. Lunch was very interesting, with that whole Lexie/Ely/Rachel/Teresa crew, along with Jake, Ian, Devin, and Ricky, who used to bring that lunchbox with a radio in it (Who remembers that shit?). I used to think those aforementioned girls were really cool, I remember that, and I don't know, it was my first experiences really with what would become, somewhat, my friends group. Hah, I just remembered how we used to throw everything at that one wall, and then moved onto the fan by the bandroom. I was there when it met it's untimely demise at the hands of a bag of ice thrown by O'Brien. Fucking amazing. I think the most important(excuse all the hyperbole) moment of that year was when one of the band seniors saw me hanging out with those kids at lunch, and told me that they were "hooligans." He said don't hang out with them, and I just ignored him and went to eat lunch with them, forever choosing the right path, eschewing the path to the dark side and band nerdism.

But I can't wrap up freshman year without mentioning the antics that occured in band that year. From Mr. Oser being a pedophile to Mr. Saint yelling at me in front of the whole band, it was a crazy entrance to a (once) respected organization. I truly was there for the spiral and then collapse of a once proud band. The two months when we didn't have a director in band class were some great times. Drum closet with Noah and Dan Dumont- I think only Noah can appreciate that. The time in the uniform room where we set a lot of shit on fire, including the shoes on Ben's feet- yeah, that was amazing. And can I just announce that the best line of that year, maybe of my life, belongs to Benjamin Garbarino: "Who stole my fucking Boston Creme?"

I do have a few sweet memories of the year, but they were mostly from the eyes of an adoring freshman tag-along. I'm glad everything happened that did that year, because it made me who I am. Girls were there, but I was enthralled with any yet. I think I had a crush on Teresa the first month of band, just because I thought she was funny, and I thought Michelle was cute as well first semester, but nothing more than slight crushes on girls. To recap, I met some of my future good friends, but wasn't really good friends with them yet. I started noticing girls more and more, but not full-on horny like the future me. Heh. I am a loser. And I was on my way to becoming who I am today, but I was still ripening up, or something like that (this is why I won a Pathfinder).

Coming Attractions: The all important sophomore year of Drew R.


Drew R.
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(no subject) [May. 28th, 2005|12:56 am]
[music |The Orb]

So who's ready for round 2 of Drew's Nostalgia? I swear, this is becoming like R. kelly's "Trapped in the Closet" song novellas he's putting out. Which is awesome, because I heard part 2 recently, and I adored it. But anyways, it's tough to discuss the awkward years, what many call middle school, which occured at Carver Middle for moi.

I guess the most defining precursor to entering 6th grade was the fact that I got fat over the summer before it began. I guess it just happens, consumed with video games and TV, instead of exercise regularly during the summer. As well, my best friends from Spady weren't in any of my classes, so it looked bleak. But being the personable guy I am, it didn't take me a long time to gain a few friends. To tell the truth, I don't remember much about 6th grade. I was a class clown, which I guess helped get my name known, but also made me seem to be a dumbass. I don't know, nothing really important happened in 1998-1999. I mean, I laid the basis for some of my best friends for the next few years, and girls became a turn-on again. But it wasn't a set friends group yet, and the girl who turned me on the most was Buffy Summers. I should give a nod to Buffy The Vampire Slayer, as it, along with wrestling and Kevin Smith, was one of the three most important facets of the entertainment world for me during middle school. In it's prime, which was basically while I was at Carver, it was easily one of the best shows on TV, and it is a true symbol of those years for me. I think the best memory I have of the grade was the band trip to Busch Gardens at the end of the year. I had a great time, roaming around the park with Holden Andrews, Erin Donnelly, and Nicole Pettigrew. It was weird, but for just that one day, we acted like best friends, even though we weren't at all. We had this one constant joke that we kept repeating the whole day, and I can't recall it now, but needless to say, as dumb as it was, we laughed our asses off at it. Considering I was scared of roller coasters, I'm amazed the trip went as well as it did. I remember sharing a blanket with Erin on the ride back, talking, and then inevitably snoozing. Even though we were just friends, I think that was the closest I had ever come to a girl at that point, besides my random trists with girls in 4th grade. So yeah, that's 6th grade for you.

I came to my first class in 7th grade with the smiling faces of two of my best friends from the past year, Justin Schaffer and Kevin Varnell. From the start, it was noticeable that a clique was forming. Those two, plus my good friend David Usuga, were inseperable. And what was our common bond, you ask? Well, good readers, it was wrestling. The WWF, to be exact. We were enamored with it. We had a lot of knowledge on it, and we used to have matches (all of which I lost) at each other's houses. Lunch was always spent talking about wrestling or some other inconsequential things, but it was great. What else happened? Jeez, it's hard to pinpoint singular events. I remember loving english class when we had journal entries, because I used to make everyone laugh with my entries. That actually may have been the first seed in my transition from wanting to become a lawyer or doctor because my parents wanted me to into wanting to become a creative writer. Early that year, I also saw Mallrats, and let's just say it was a life-changing experience. I showed Mallrats to my three close buddies, who loved it. We quoted it all the time, and as most of you readers don't know, I fell in love with Kevin Smith films. I saw all of them, and memorized every fact about the View Askewniverse. Looking back, it's clear that the reason that Kevin Smith films can be cherished by a 7th-grader is the fact that most of the humor is that juvenile. Don't get me wrong, there are some great moments in a few of his films, but it's almost sad that I haven't really watched any of them in the past 3 years. But he deserves a lot of credit for making me want to become a screenwriter, which I still have delusions of grandeur about. And the Mallrats DVD commentary is truly one of the funniest things put to tape.

8th grade, perhaps, was my best year of school. It's at least in the top-3. Familiarity, that's the reason. By then, I knew almost everyone in my classes, and my friends group was defined. It's also the year girls came into play. I developed my first real crush, this girl Jenna. She was in the Pre-IB classes, or MYP, or whatever they call them. The funny thing is, I began liking her because I thought she liked me, because I caught a lot of glances from her. I don't know why I thought that, since I was fat, but I did. Anyways, looking back, I am amazed at the whole situation. She was very Boca Jewish American Princess (I don't use JAP, because it's like using KIKE for Korean Immigrant Kiwi Eaters.) I started talking to her online, actually a great deal, even though I didn't know her. And then she left our school, and I continued talking to her online, but I never asked her out. I know, looking back, I should have at least tried, but I guess it's good I didn't, because it helped me realize that if there's a girl who is worth it, you should ask her out. Anyways, besides the girl issue, I felt so in tune with myself during 8th grade, and it was the last time I had a really tight-knit small clique in Kevin, David, and Justin. We had our own website, where I had a monthly or so column. It's pretty bad to look at, but an award-winning (I realize this reeks of arrogance, but it's true) columnist has to start somewhere, and the beginning isn't too pretty. However, if you care for a peek of shittiness, go to theloveshack.20m.com. It really is a snapshot of time, if that is anything more than a pompous, cliched statement. And best of all of 8th grade, we had our own stunt group, a la Jackass, appropriately titled Bohemian Bullocks (I randomly chose words from a dictionary, and I guess my dictionary only had a B section.) Justin was a pretty savvy stuntman, but his stunts mostly consisted of jumping off of playground equipment and the top of the racquetball court at Sun Valley. The original, and pehaps the best, tape of this included a young man named Ryan Nagel- but more on him later.

To spit the truth, I guess in essence, I only know two people who were good friends with me in middle school through now. One is Justin Schaffer, and the other is Ryan Nagel. Justin, along with Mike P., is probably my best friend in my life. He was my first friend in middle school, and he was always the closest to me in our little clique. We never have had a fight, besides when he dropped my column from our website to piss me off. In fact, no animosity ever came between us, besides when he dated a few girls who sucked. I have a firm belief that you can tell your best friends but how easy their company is. And in reality, whenever the time or place, we always could get together and act like no time had passed. He's a great person, we have similar sense of humors, and I can't really think of one bad thing to say about him. Even though he went to Boynton, we have tried hard to stay in touch, and when we didn't drive, it was tougher. But since we started driving, we started hanging out a lot. In fact, this past semester is the most I have hung out with him since middle school. We really are close again, and our friendship has matured over the years, but we still have as much fun, if not more, as we did back at Carver. In short, he's on the shortlist of people who really, really matter to me.

Ryan Nagel was not part of that four-person clique I have mentioned, but he was about as close as one could come. I think the main barrier for him was the fact that, for some reason, David didn't like him, and thus, he didn't have the full blessing of our clique. He was one of the few kids who made me laugh a lot back then, and we had a lot of good times, working on projects and other things. We were the two main funnymen in our classes, the ones with more mature humor. He always came off more intelligent than most I had encountered at Carver, and I respected that. When he came to Atlantic in 10th grade, I was one of the few people who knew, and we became closer friends than we were in middle school. I saw him gain more and more friends that year, and as I've said before in a past journal, when he told me he didn't hate his life anymore because he had met so many great people sophomore year, it was one of the best things I had heard in awhile. It's sad to think how much his parents suck and act like assholes to him, as well as the fact that he didn't walk across the stage with us. I want to help the guy, but I have no way to get in touch with him, and just want to see that smiling face again. All those "Hey pretty girl" or "Drewcifix cutie, what's shakin" that he uttered were so genuine and full of love, as well as his Camp Shalom shirts and general demeanor. I just hope he knows there are a lot of people who care about him and want to help him out of a jam. It's crazy to think of the progression from 6th grade to high school graduate that I have seen in him, my buddy Ryan Bagel Nagelpuss.

I used to sort of not look back on middle school as fondly, because I was fat, and there were a lot of mean-spirited people. But fuck it, who cares if I was fat and didn't date anyone, I, for the most part, had a great time. Kevin V. was one of the craziest people I ever met, as well as one of the few in the Night Ranger cult. He was very smart, if not the most diligent student. He had ADD, and usually never took his medicine, but it helped engrain his soul in my mind. I would love to talk with him again, because we haven't spoken in like 3 years, as he moved south and went to Ely, last time I heard. David was so goofy, and yet was such a player, it always amazed me. He always had some funny new inside joke or catchphrase. We stayed in touch for awhile after he went to Boynton High, but sadly, we haven't talked in like a year. I still talk online to Curtis Daniels, the token black guy in our class, and he hasn't changed much. He is an interesting dude, as he goes to private school up in Maine, but he definitely has matured enormously, and I dig that. Lindsay Harris was probably one of a few girls who I could talk to and have a good conversation with back then. We made fun of each other, as I did with almost all the girls in my classes, but we had a good time with it, and she was a cool girl. There are others, but the point is that my time at Carver was a very good one. It was definitely the awkward transitional period of my life, but it's the awkward transitional period of everyone's life, so it all works out in the end. At least I didn't shoot a teacher.

Oh goodness, high school is coming up kids!

Until next time,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [May. 20th, 2005|02:43 am]
[music |Sun Records Compilation]

I really am bad at keeping promises. If you are an avid reader of one of USA Today's "Only Blogs Worth Reading Ever", you would remember that I promised almost daily updates this month. Well, I have thought about updating everyday, but I guess I had better things to do. Boggles.

But for personal catharsis and public enjoyment, I wanted to record my thoughts on my school life, up to the completion of my secondary education. I wanted to talk about some of the many people I've encountered and have affected me in some way. Most of all, I wanted you to want me. But as it turns out, I need you, the reader, to need me. And Sam Cooke almighty, I love you to love me.

What the fuck is this entry? Seriously, why do all my stream of consciousness pieces end up as Cheap Trick quotations? I guess I should just surrender surrender. Shit, I did it again. Okay, as I was saying before this Rick Nielsen-induced tangent, I would like to just put my thoughts on the majority of my life into, or onto, or whatever, my livejournal. You obviously don't have to read these entries, but I guess you are faced with that choice every second of every minute of every millenia you are here on this planet. I also would like most of my upcoming entries to be off the top of my head, so bear with the 3rd-grade vernacular and J.V. diction.

So as many of you recall, most of us begin proper schooling in kindergarden at age 5. But I had my first day of school at S.D. Spady Elementary School at the age of 2. My parents sensed I was a smart young duder, a reputation I would slowly lose over the course of the next 15 years. Yes, naptime was great, and I always hated having my slumber snapped by the class record player spinning the first notes of "He's Got The Whole World (In His Hands)." However, I really loved learning. It's a beautiful thing actually, being five years old and conquering your first books and arithmetic. One begins to feel as if the whole world was in their hands, not someone else's. Actually, back then I probably just felt disgust towards girls and love towards Magellan from "Eureka's Castle."

I must proclaim to be a proponent of the Montessori method of education that Spady uses. It trained me how to work alone and at my own pace, and I really felt it help me accelerate my early learning. Aside from that little informercial I just wrote, I also was quite the ladies man in my early years. With my boyish cutes, let's just say I was getting more ass than three rolls of toilet paper. I had my first girlfriend at age 5, an African-American beauty named Lorena, and our relationship consisted of going to a nook in the back of the class and kissing basically everyday for awhile. What can I say, she dug my Troll doll.

As more and more grade years went by, I always was the "smart kid" in my class, which I guess was flattering but it all came pretty easy to me (and I'm really not trying to sound pretentious, it's just the truth.)Even at any early age, I was very social and was one of the jokesters in classes. I don't what it was, perhaps having an older brother and watching a lot of adult TV (namely In Living Color), but I had a pretty developed humor even at an early age. I had a surfer cut throughout 1st-5th grade and I wore Mossimo, Stussy, Yaga, and other fake Island clothing marketed for rich Caucasians. I was never the most athletic kid, but I wasn't too shabby in some sports. I loved baseball, even though I sucked after Coach Pitch. It's so weird that I played little league with almost all of Atlantic's team (and they all struck me out/beaned me in the head). But when it came to Football, or Soccer if that's the wavelength you are on, I was a baller. My cousin who played professionally, as well as my two uncles who loved the sport, instilled a love of the sport in me. I wasn't blessed with all the athleticism as some kids were, but I always prided myself on being the most knowledgeable on the field. PLEASE ALLOW ME TWO OR THREE LINES OF SELF-ADORING NOSTALGIA. I had amazing field vision, and I was selfless on the field, unlike most kids, looking to pass instead of hog the ball. And in goal, let's just say I ruled, for a period of time back in the day. Then I got fat. I stopped playing in 8th grade I believe, and it truly is one of the things I most genuinely miss from my childhood.

Looking back on my friends, it definitely changed over the years. I hung out with a lot of kids who were weird I suppose in 1st-3rd grade. We always played the guessing game at lunch, where we tried to guess a video game or movie or Michael Jackson song from clues said by one of us. We were lame, but we loved it. But the place where I had friends for a long time was the after-care program that I was in throughout. I played basketball with Dejuan Guillory a lot, and he still used to say hi to me at Atlantic, even though he was a cool football player, just because he must have liked me back then. Billy Gustafson was one of my good friends, and roommates on the Safety Patrol trip. He is easily one of the nicest kids I have ever known, and such a polar opposite than Ricky. I really wish we had stayed better friends throughout middle and high school. We still say hello to each other in the halls, and we have luckily enough talked a few times recently at senior events, but he is definitely one of a few kids from Spady who I wish I still was good friends with. Likewise, Robert Scherban, who I think is a ROTC guy at Lake Worth now, was also one of my best friends. He was a great guy, and I wish we has stayed friends, but time and different schools changed that. I still have fond memories of trading baseball cards with him in 5th grade. I saw Kris Stubbs, who is going to Duke on an athletic scholarship, at Pathfinders, and he was still the nice atletic superstar that he was when I knew him. I am really happy for him and the whole Duke acceptance, he seems like a guy with his head on straight. And then for one year, I was friends with Damian Vaudo, who turned me onto ska in 5th grade. Now I hear he is a father and dropped out, which is upsetting, but I guess that's what life held for him.

Now that I think about it, there are only two people I was friends with in elementary school that I still am friends with nowadays. One of them is Kiera Jefferson, who always was one of my best girl friends in elementary, in part to our brothers being best friends with each other when they were in middle school. She always was a sweet girl who had a great personality, and nothing has changed. It was a pleasure to have AP English with her this year, as we were the class clowns I guess. She is one of the few people who can truly make me laugh a lot, because she is so outrageous. Our families have been friends for awhile, and I doubt I'll ever not welcome her company, because she also is surprisingly mature, in my analysis.

Then there is my main bro, my first best friend, Mike Plotkowski. Seriously, I was talking to him recently, and we both thought it was amazing that we have been great friends since we were like 2. He was my one constant in elementary. We got sea lice together when we were like four years old. We played Power Rangers, Darkwing Duck, and plenty of other made-up games in after-care for 8 years. We were into Magic cards for a little, and we brought out big books of baseball cards to school everyday to trade. We were inseperable, even though we never were in the same class after kindergarden. He was the superstar athlete, but he always made sure I was picked for his team right after he was picked first in kickball. Middle school came, and we didn't see each other but on a blue moon, yet we still invited each other to our respective birthday parties. Then high school was here, and we were in each other's classes for the first time forever, and we were great friends again. We have been on and off with our level of friendship each year in high school, but we really became good friends this year again in Economics class. Sure, we are in different friends groups, as he is a jock and isn't the most academically-inclined kid ever, and we don't hang out much out of school. But I always have his back, and what makes me feel good is the fact that I know he still has mine. The truth is, Mike is one of the best friends I have had in my life, and I will try my best to keep in touch with him throughout life.

So, in summary, I liked elementary a lot. I played dodgeball, I had two Tamagotchis, and I used to run away from girls. I suppose not much has changed in retrospect. Anyways, yes, I know that is a bear to read, but if you read it, then you are a little closer to knowing what makes Drew tick. Until next time...


Drew R.
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(no subject) [May. 2nd, 2005|01:48 am]
[music |Arthur Russell]

Hola!

Back again, it's the ambivalent musings of Drew Richard Rosensomethingjewish. Who wants to hear about my life? Okay good!

If you don't know yet, I will be attending American University in Washington D.C. next fall. I visited both BU and American in the middle of May, and I really dug both. In the end, I liked BU slightly more, but not almost $20,000 a year more, if you get my drift. College is what you make of it, and at American, I don't think I will have to try very hard to have a great time. I have already met a few really good kids who will be in the class of '09 next year, so I am already excited. There are only two problems with the school, at least to me. First of all, the name kind of sucks. Why couldn't it be like, Burt Reynolds University? And also, this sounds pretty dumb, but if any terrorist group gets its hands on a nuclear missile, it's probably heading straight for D.C. And to tell the truth, I really would not liked to get nuked while at college.

So with the college situation wrapped up like the end of a Scooby Doo episode, I guess other parts of my life should be addressed. I have never danced so much in one month than I did in April. I went to a dance party with my brother and his friends up at Harvard. In my buzzed nature, I was a friggin dancing machine. Then prom came about and I stole the dancefloor with my grooves. Finally, I learned how to merengue and salsa at my friend Queanh's birthday party last night. I'm like a modern Fred Astaire. Or at least Michelle Pfeiffer in Grease 2. Prom was a good time, overall better than last year. The sole bad part of the night was Allison not being there, especially seeing all the hook-ups at Carlo's party. But it was easier just being with some of my best friends, dancing, partying, watching Moskow have 23 shots ("Let's do a double"). I'd be up for it again.

Instead of doing any schoolwork, I  have become a Freaks and Geeks addict. I have the DVD boxset, and I watched every episode, some twice, in the past two weeks. I love that show. Honestly, I almost cried when I watched the final episode, because it is a downright shame, in the lesser scheme of things, that a show that good would be canceled after only 18 episodes. If I ever write for TV, I would sell my soul to create a show like Freaks and Geeks. "If I were Bionic Woman, what would I wear?"

Shameless self-masturbatory section: I recently won two awards at that Palm Beach Post High School Journalism Awards. Needtheless to say, I almost crapped myself. Honestly, I was shocked, and I have tried to supress my happiness about this, but I must say, in this livejournal entry, that I am genuinely stoked about the whole experience. To be recognized for something I love-writing- is about the best thing I can hope for, right next to 5 minutes in a spacious closet with Zooey Deschanel. I'll post a picture of the awards perhaps in the sometime near-future. Then I will have officially achieved complete douchebag status.

It's the last month of high school, and I feel fine. I know I don't update this journal often, but expect big happenings over the course of May, featuring almost (shock!) daily offerings from your favorite writer. It's a wrap-up of my school life up until now, including plenty of memories of elementary, middle, and high school. I also will muse on many of the people I have met over the years, so stay tuned- you just may be in my next entry (unless you're a creepy LJ-stalker.)

As J Rust would say, ciao!

Drew R.

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(no subject) [Mar. 29th, 2005|01:18 am]
[music |James Brown Live At the Apollo]

Dear Thoughtful Readers,

I am tired, but I wanted to just jot down a few surprisingly concise thoughts down, instead of the normal non-sequitors that come in abundance normally on this journal. The decision of college is now directly staying me right in the retinas, and I am lucky enough to have a number of rather decent options.

Basically, UCF, SMU, and Emerson have been elimidated. I should have applied to UF as my safety, because at least that is a above average option, especially with Bright Futures, but it doesn't really matter. SMU gave me a spot in their honors program and a little bit of a scholarship, but when it comes down to it, it's a school full of rich Texan douchebags. And that is not my steez. Emerson is just not for me, because I want a broader liberal arts education than just the communications focus it has. I should have applied to Middlebury instead of Emerson, even though I wouldn't have gotten in there.

The only school that rejected me was, not surprisingly, William and Mary. It was my reach, but I should have chosen a better one, looking back. For an out-of-state student, it's like an Ivy League school to get into, and I'm not Ivy material. Also, they didn't offer Journalism or Film as a major, so it may not have been a great fit. I won't really matter I suppose, and I was actually okay with the outcome, because the social life there supposedly sucks as well. And readers, you know how much of a party animal I am. Call Lloyd Banks and get this motherfucker crunk, as the Game would say.

So it comes down to three choices: Boston University, American University, and Goucher College.

BU had been a favorite for a long time, but now I don't know. Two main problems: it is horribly overpriced and it has no campus. $40k a year? Absurd. That's a number that should be saved for the Harvards, Stanfords, Princetons, and Yales(actually, Yale sucks). I thought I would qualify for their $10,000 scholarship, but I guess not. The campus and dorms are actually not a huge problem, because I knew that it was an urban campus that had not the greatest freshman housing. But there are plus sides to the school. I was accepted to their College of Communications, one of their strongest schools, and one of the few that have big-time name recognition nationally. It is regarded as a top-ten school in both journalism and film, so that is of course enticing, and a deep honor to be granted admission to. Also, as I have said before, Boston is just the bees knees.

Then there is American University in D.C. that has risen to the forefront of my college options. I was offered a near 1/3 scholarship, and admitted to their school of communications. Their journalism program is one of the best in the nation, and the chance for internships and studying abroad, two of my main interests, is very high at American. It is a school that is quickly rising in prominence, and it is one of the most diverse campuses, supposedly, in the world. I don't know why, but I dig the fact that there are many countries represented at the school. Also, D.C. offers a good social life, only a 20-minute bus ride away. The only cons are the fact that, from what I recall, the campus is sort of blah, and it may not, overall, have the same name recognition as BU. But at least it has a traditional campus, and the Journalism program is right up there with BU's as one of the best in the country.

Finally, the black beauty (no, not Howard), the dark horse candidate, Goucher. It's only 1200 kids, and there is a real focus on writing. It has a great writing program there, and I have a good chance of getting more personalized attention with the small student to faculty ratio. They gave me a near 1/2 scholarship there, and I think at a small school, I would have a better opportunity to shine. Baltimore isn't too shabby of a city, and it has a beautiful, foresty campus. But it is by far the least regarded school of the three options, and I'm not sure if a degree from Goucher carries anywhere near the weight of one from BU or American. It's not in the elite nor second tier of liberal arts schools, though it was proclaimed to be a "hot" school in the pantheon of liberal arts colleges.

I am trying to visit all three schools again in the next two weeks, and then I will have to make a choice. I never thought it would be this tough of a decision. With BU, I have to decide if it is worth all the money it will cost. If I had received a scholarship to BU, I would likely go there without a doubt. With American, I have to decide if the campus and overall atmosphere is right for me. If I had liked the campus of American more on first impression, then it probably would already have had me accept admission there. And with Goucher, I have to decide if I love the school enough to forego bigger and splashier options. If only I had received a full tuition scholarship at Goucher, it would be a much more viable option.

It's not the time for ifs though, it's the time to decide my future, sort of. If anyone has any opinions on the subject, then they would greatly appreciated.

Huggles,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [Mar. 23rd, 2005|01:48 am]
[music |max tundra]

As Jigga man would say, "New York New York yeah where my troopers at". As Chuck Woolery would say, "that was one fucking lame intro Drew."

So yes readers, I returned from NY yesterday, and I guess a brief recap is in order. Not that it will be very interesting or anything. I don't want to write a day-by-day recap, because that's what separates my livejournal.com/users/oh_that_clergy from the cretins. While I was in New York, I wasn't sure sometimes if I was enjoying my trip that I was lucky enough to partake in; now that I am back in the confederacy, I must say that it was, for the most part, a rather good trip.

First and foremost, I feel that the band directors treated us without the respect that was due- as if we were almost 10 year-olds instead of the invincible teenagers that we are. There were blunders with the itinery in my opinion, regarding where we went and time allotment to certain excursions. And the fact that Lerner put his room right next to ours was so douche of him, even though it didn't faze us and our party hardyness.

The parade down 5th Avenue was actually an amazing experience. I realized before the parade that this truly was a once in a lifetime event, as well as the last time I'd ever march in a band, most likely. It was gave me chills hearing the final bars of "When Irish Eyes..." and the drum breakdown on "Volcano" echo off the skyscrapers, their bombastic sound lingering in the air for seemingly forever (or I guess a New York Minute.) The two hours we marched went by fast, and I played my heart (and lips) out, noting that it was the only time I'd ever march on one of the biggest streets in one of the biggest cities in the world.

The food was disgusting the whole trip, which was one of the lowpoints. Mars 2112 should be burnt down, with all of its employers and owners inside. The only delictable item I enjoyed was the gelato at Grand Central. Eh, I suppose it's much better to eat something than to eat nothing, as a large number of the world deals with.

The Museum of Natural History was a disappointment, because we eschewed the dinosaurs exhibit for the museum shop. The Met is overwhelming, but of course quite enjoyable. The Diane Arbus exhibit was wonderful, and the little I absorbed of the rest of the museum left a good taste in my mouth. The Wax museum is a one trick pony obviously, but the Beyonce wax figure still left me slightly aroused, so color me impressed. I am awful at ice skating, so the Rockefeller Center rink wasn't the best. But it was fun, in a self-defeating way, and I had some good talks with a few people there, garnering it a thumbs up. The Empire State Building offers a gorgeous view at night, even though the line is way too long, and when you see Ground Zero with your own eyes, I really don't know why, but it really hits you. I don't have to explain it, and I doubt I could fully explain it correctly, but I hope those that are reading this understand what I'm trying to convey.

Fiddler on the Roof surprised me by how enjoyable it was for a beloved Broadway musical. Wicked, on the other hand, was vastly overrated in my opinion. The saving grace of the show was the singing of Shoshana Bean, who has some massive pipes. Eh, I just wanted to see Cats.

The rooming worked out fine. I wish Keith has been there more nights, but it just left Austin, Evan, and I to be find more homoerotic situations for ourselves. We slept in the same bed one night, just to say we did. We had lightsaber battles in our undies nightly. We sang emo medleys, led by Austin. Evan jumped around in his tighty whiteys early in the morning like a little kid, poking us with his lightsaber (not in the sexual way) to wake us up. Overall, a fine time bunking up.

The city has it's virtues, most definitely. I underestimated the charm of Manhattan; it really is a great place. There's so much culture and life there, and that goes a long way in my book. It's still no Boston, but it has a newfound respect stemming from this writer.

The people were what drove this trip. I talked to so many kids who I had never said a word to before this trip, and I was pleasantly surprised by many of them. Obviously, day after day with the same people can be grating, so there were a few times that I just wanted to be out of the trip. But I think that we, collectively, all had that feeling at some point in the trip. In all honesty, I saw the best and worst in people on the trip: the first time pleasantries, the constant shit-talking, the insightful conversing, the immaturity, and countless other nuisances.

Oh, and the battle between our room and the other rooms on our floor? Truly wookified.

Drew R.

P.S. Dating Jennifer Grey is wonderful. Now that's dirty dancing for you.
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(no subject) [Feb. 28th, 2005|11:26 pm]
[music |Allen Toussaint]

Jeez, February was such a great month, it warrants at least one more entry. Not really, but hey, I'm willing to push away sleep just for you, baby.

This past month really was a blur, and I guess that can be attributed to it's short length, but maybe time is speeding up. Maybe the Earth's rotation is trying to accomodate me after catching wind of my craving of late March/early April to come sooner. Perhaps I am just outgrowing high school. "Whoa whoa Drew, that sounds like a pretentious comment by someone who searches for elitism through maturity." Good call, mild-mannered reader.

I am generally really enjoying these late winter days. School is Baskin Robbins, as I rarely have homework anymore. I have written what I feel are two of my best articles yet for the upcoming issue of "The Squall," a column entitled "America:1, World:0" and a review of M.I.A.'s new album. I have been spending most of my academic time practicing for my Pathfinder interview scheduled for this Friday, which is going to be an experience. Wish me luck kids, I really would enjoy any money I can attain for college, considering my brother already broke the bank with his Ivy League tuition.

Speaking of college, it's more and more likely that if I somehow get accepted to William and Mary, I'll go there. My parents seem to be really against Boston U, because it's not good "bang for the buck." That fact makes sense, when the tuition is more than Harvard, with by far less name recognition than the H-bomb. Anyways, yeah, I would really like to get accepted to Bill and Mary, because it would make things a lot easier and it really is where I would love to go.

I have been thinking of what I truly want my career to be. Don't get me wrong, 95% of me still wants to be a writer. Working at the Palm Beach Post has made me realize I don't think I want to work at a major newspaper staff, at least definitely not in the news or local section. Maybe if I rolled with my own column, a la Frank Cerabino, then maybe I could be bribed. But as much as I deny it with my parents, my true passion is in creative writing, in particular screenwriting. I want to write films, do coke off my lead actress' stomach, and have my way with every blue-eyed starlet in East Hollywood. Isn't that the American dream?

But that small minority of me that says "Drew, you should do something that helps the world," oh it's a tricky wildebeest. I am a master arguer with my parents, and they always felt I should go into law. If I did, it would definitely be either civil rights law or union law, even though unions seem to be on the fritz. None of that corporate or personal injury junk for Drew Cool. There's also a part of me that wants to work in organizations that are working in Africa, trying to fight the AIDS epidemic and all the militant governments. If I don't go into international relations, perhaps I could use my writing as a tool with said organizations, raising awareness through my trademark wordiness and overdramatizing. Yeah readers, I'm going to rake me some muck.

As you can tell, I have been thinking about the future with more substance in the past few weeks. But that is later, and I need to live in the now. So what is the now for me? Well, I've been ill with the flu or rubella or the Bubonic for the past week and a half. For someone who has remarkably stayed away from sickness throughtout his life, this sickness has taken a lot out of me. Last week consisted of me going to school all but one day even though I should have stayed home more, laying in my bed until at least 2:30 each night coughing so much because I couldn't sleep, and coming home from school and immediately falling asleep for about 3-4 hours. Oh, and in my sickness, I created a Myspace account. Seriously, I'm at a point where I just don't care anymore.

My friends are still the definition of ace, bringing a smile to my face when I especially need it. Save for a few disappointing acts of incredible immaturity by people I thought I knew, I couldn't be much more amped about my compatriots. Leaving them when college comes-a-knockin' is one of the few things that will be very discouraging.

Musically, I became reacquainted with My Bloody Valentine's "Loveless," Brian Eno's "Here Come The Warm Jets," and The Talking Heads' "Stop Making Sense." I fell asleep almost every night to my man Steve Reich, even though his beautiful music couldn't persuade the sandman to visit me. I also have become obsessed with downloading compilations off of soulseek. I literally just type in "Various Artists" and see what comes up. In the past week I have scored: "New Orleans Funk 1960-1975," "Funk on Film," "Girls in the Garage: French Girl Groups from 1960s," "Trojan Nyahbinghi Box Set," a random obscuro pop compilation from the 60s, "Nuggets of the Psychedelic Era," "Wakka Chika Wakka Chika:Porn Music for the Masses," a few dub compilations, a few dancehall compilations, and a few others I can't remember right this moment. Anyways, my iPod is full of stuff to listen to for the New York trip in two and a half weeks.

So I wrote a novel for you to read, or not to read, depending on if you know my steez. Enjoy life readers, and hopefully you won't contract the Black Death from me next time you are in my close proximity.

Drew R.

P.S. After watching the Academy Awards, I must say that Kate Winslet's breastal region is wonderful, in my eyes at least.
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(no subject) [Feb. 8th, 2005|11:09 pm]
[music |serge gainsbourg]

Hello,

It's your boy again, here to drop an update on all the crazy happenings in my life!

Valentine's Day is coming up, definitely one of my top-3 holidays ever. In the world. Especially when you are single. And the girl you like is a pretty Hispanic on a reality-TV show. Man, who am I going to see "Are We There Yet?" with?

My room for the New York trip was finally figured out, as I will be bunking up with Roast Keith, Mighty Morphin Power Austin, and Emo Sax Kid. I was happy with basically rooming with anyone, and the trip is actually creeping up upon us, so that's something to probably look forward to.

Some things about school that still make it a worthwhile endeavor:
-Discussing hip-hop with B-Rod.
-Ryan Nagel's enthusiastic happiness, or perhaps nonnchalance, or I don't know what. I just like Nagelpuss's demeanor. It brings a smile to my face.
-Days when lunchtime is fun. Sara the original gangsta acting like a goof, J Rust and Jan being as great as they always are, Shane being Shane, Arianne being a hater, Whizzlebox and Keith rolling deep, Flava Flav and Vinh the cool sophmores, it's all fun of love somedays.
-Newspaper,while disappointing that we aren't getting shit done, is always a calm and relaxing way to start the morning.
-AP English, where I,Kiera, Lauren, Juice, Julia, and Yolanda all spend the whole time talking. Special mention to Cary and his wonderfully loud sighs he lets out every so often when something worthless happens.

Moving on:

I have been accepted to UCF, Goucher, and SMU. SMU is offering me a scholarship and a place in their honors program. Tha'ts enticing, but I'm still waiting for my top choices. Every week my top choice alternates from Boston and William and Mary. Sam Cooke, I want late-March/early-April to get here already.

Wookiees Unleashed is far superior to any team Raborn puts up.

I have been working on a what will likely be a 3-disc mix of the best songs, to me, of the past 5 years. It's tough, pointless, and enjoyable. Sort of like intercourse. Oy, I sound like my ex-wife.

My favorite quote from my mother this year so far came during the halftime show of the Super Bowl. As Sir Paul McCartney came to the stage, my mom asked aloud "Do you think he's going to show tits?"

Anyways, I think everything will work out, faithful readers. The lady situation will be cleared up soon, I hope, the trip to NY will be fun, and the whole college thing will figure itself out. In the meantime, I just hope to stay on my feet and live life to the fullest.

Merry Christmas!

Love,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [Jan. 1st, 2005|03:13 am]
[music |Birchville Cat Motel]

To me, it always felt like New Year's Eve was like any other night of the year, only with my mom more plastered and Dick Clark more prevalent. Tonight, or today I guess, really is no different. I didn't do much of importance, spending time at the house unhappily, sort of, until I visited my buddies at a party just for a small period of time. I wasn't really looking to party really, I just wanted to see my friends on a night like tonight, and luckily, I did, albeit for too short of a time. So I guess it's all good.

In regards to analysis, retrospection, etc., there's not much to say. I almost feel like 2004 was a precursor to the change I will experience in 2005. I mean, my mom became principal at another high school this year. My dad left a museum he cultivated after 28 years to begin a new job. In the coming year, my brother will graduate from Harvard with a degree in biochemistry, and he wants to go to L.A. to try comedy writing instead of medical school, and I couldn't be happier for him. And as most of you faithful readers know, I will (Allah-willing) graduate high school in May of this new year. College is in the cards, and some days, it dominates my thoughts, while other days I resume my regularly-scheduled thoughts of season two Buffy and old guys getting hit in the genitals by footballs.

After many talks with my brother this break, and seeing that there are only a handful of his friends who still live down here, even though he's only four years out of high school, the future is becoming more and more evident. How many of the people reading this right now will I still be friends with in four years? Sadly, not many, in all likelihood. When I think about some of my amazing friends I have now, and the thought of not knowing them in 2010, it depresses me. But, in all triteness, life is about change, and I'll have to accept it.

I don't really do resolutions, because I rarely hold on to them. But hopefully I have had my last caffeinated beverage in a long, long time. And I hope to translate some of the useless skin on my tummy into actual ab muscle. And I hope to just have more fun, especially with the ladies. Oh, and more self-confidence would be nice. But this is now turning into a laundry list of probably empty wishings, so I'll end it now.

To end on a happy note, I'd like to say I have had a good break, thus far. I got an iPod on Consumemas, and I have watched a good amount of James Bond flicks over the week. I've hung out with some good kids, and begun work on a play that I think I can actually finish. I've seen Sideways twice, which is excellent, as well as The Life Aquatic, which was sort of disappointing, but had its moments. And most importantly, I've been lucky enough to spend time with my brother and other members of my family who I rarely see.

So color me content, babe.

Love,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [Dec. 12th, 2004|11:45 pm]
[music |E.L.O.]

In the words of Scott Hall, hey yo.

This entry is mainly to highlight the fact that, with the sending in of my AP scores to schools, my college application process is done. And it is a great feeling. Now I just wish I could hop in my Delorian and ride to April. Unless I'm going to be working the magic on a few ladies in between. Then we can slow it down.

To give a basic summation of my college prospects, dig this:

And you, and your sweet desire...You took me, higher and higher ,baby )


Anyways, as long as I get into somewhere besides UCF, I should be happy. This weekend consisted of:

-Austin and Keith's show on Friday. Not a bad time, and they were enjoyable, but I wasn't in a great mood the whole time. I'm sorry, I'm a disappointing TGIF-er.
-Aventura Mall in the morning. Picked up gifts for my brother, mother, and father. Got a sweater from J Crew, so I don't have to steal Keith's anymore.
-Driving with Moskow back on I-95 with Sara. He hit 125 in his Beamer, that kid fuckin rules.
-Marching in Delray Beach Christmas Parade. I like the parade, since people for once seem genuinely happy, for some strange reason.
-Walking with Austin and random colorguard girl back to our cars, which took like 8 hours. It was a fun trek, as I saw some faces I hadn't seen in awhile and had interesting convo with Austin and colorguard girl.
-Had my dog eat my chapstick while changing at my house.
-Went to eat Cuban with Austin, J Rust and Czech kid. Fun shit mang.
-My house, with aforementioned kids and Arianne on drugs. My mom sang "Who Let the Dogs Out", Austin slept while Arianne bullyed him, and we watched Boogie Nights.
-Couldn't sleep, so I watched Boogie Nights at like 4 Am to see the end since I fell asleep in the earlier viewing, but I fall asleep again. Damn.
-Finished Pathfinder packet, listened to ELO's "Livin Thing" about 100 times today because Boogie Nights made it seem like the greatest song ever.
-Am here to tell you wonderful people of my wonderful life!

Love,
Drew R.

P.S. All I want for Christmas is Ibis Nieves.
link8 comments|post comment

(no subject) [Dec. 5th, 2004|09:52 pm]
[music |Arrigo Barnabe]

And so we meet again my old friend. It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you, you know, without a dope piece of writing to step to. So get your clogs on, it's dancing time.

There's really not much to say of importance, but important things have no place on livejournal, so that's okay. What's been going on in my life, dearest readers?

My afternoons have been consumed by basketball and sting. I have played one of the two probably 20 days this last month. Have nothing to do? Go to Keith's to jam on 21. Spare minutes before symphony practice? Sting it up! Two amazing games, and it's some mad cardio, bro!

I'm just trying to finish out this semester, continue to keep good grades, and then I'm done. I've done pretty well when it comes to senioritis, but next 5 months will be tough to get through. I'll just have more time to work on my sky hook I guess.

I've come to realize that I actually enjoy most of the kids I come into contact with, at least to some extent. I dig a lot of people, for various reasons, and that's shipshape to the max. I had a great time at J Rust's party, and Thiago's most especially. Thanks, good sirs. This past weekend, I ate at Stir Crazy with two wonderful ladies, went to Dadas twice (so hip!), saw "Closer" in the company of some great kids, and had an altogether extraordinary time.

Wasting too much time with music would come to mind as perhaps one of my biggest problems. I read too many music blogs, download too much music, and make too much shitty techno on Frooty Loops. But at least I can put "music national socialist" on my resume, right?

Anyways, I find that LJ is rather lame, and I'd much rather have a music blog, but that would be lame as well. So basically, cue the picture from this weekend, and munch on this eyecandy.

I'd sure hate to see your ugly mug in my history book )

So that's my life, and I'm happy right now. Cool!

Drew R.

P.S. RIP Ol' Dirty Bastard. Anyone who says he is running for president and then when asked why, responds "To get pussy" is a hero in my book.
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Ladies and gentlemen, Drew's thoughts are now floating in space. [Nov. 8th, 2004|12:48 am]
[music |galaxie 500]

Thinkin of blue thunder
Singin to myself
Thinkin how fast it moves
Feelin how it turns

I've hit rock bottom, kids. Well, not really. But I just need a fucking girl. This isn't me being emo, this isn't me trying to act like 98.6% of the people on livejournal, this is just the facts, m'aam. Don't get me wrong, I really am happy with life right now. I am excited about the future, and am generally glad about the past. The present is made better by my wonderful friends, Shaloin Dolemite, and Battle of the Sexes 2. I am not a fan of how the recent election turned out, but you know, no sense in crying over spilt milk. However, it seems like a lot of kids have someone, or at least someone in mind. But I have neither. Can someone be dead romantically at the age of 17? No, I know in reality that I am not. Hopefully at college I'll be able to win over a girl with my fair musical knowledge, or at least seduce a girl by singing Janet Jackson's "Pleasure Principle." But maybe I've put myself in a corner. And nobody puts Baby in a corner.

I was singin somethin
Out on Route 128
Thinkin how blue it looks
Singin out aloud

I just don't go after girls. I am not sure if I actually have bad self-confidence, because sometimes I feel confident, but generally, I don't think of myself as that attractive. Sometimes I feel cute, but that's not that important. Sure, if I could look like Adam Brody, then I would be a hotter person. But even Seth Cohen has doubts about himself, omg! I do know for a fact that it takes a lot for me to pursue a girl. In fact, I've only seriously pursued one girl, and I guess that was a success, to some point. Sure, I think of possibilities all the time, but for some reason, I just don't go after these possibilities. I can't quite put my finger on why, but I think I just worry about minute details with the girl. The weird thing is usually one of my main worries isn't if the girl thinks I'm attractive, oddly enough. Perhaps that means I'm confident, somewhat. But the balls-out kookiest thing that boggles me is why I haven't gone after some of the girls who have liked me. Flat-out not wanting to use some poor girl for fear of reciprocation in the future, that's all I can muster up. I don't have an explanation for that. In all honesty, I don't fear getting hurt, since I know that comes with the package of life, and I don't have a fear of commitment, since I think I want a long relationship, ideally, for some strange reason. But no matter what way you slice the rye, I don't have a girlfriend. So I guess I just don't go after girls.

My my blue thunder
My my blue thunder
My my blue thunder
Singin out aloud

The next best viable option is to makeout with ladies at parties or something else. Oh, but what a crafty deer this option is. Because I am just not ballsy enough to do this. Hell, even when I dated a girl, I was scared to try a lot of things. And we could probably attribute this to me being a gigantic pussy (excuse my French). This is when I'm most fearful, when I wonder why I just don't try, when worst comes to worst, I offend the girl and she hates me. There's a little thing called morals I guess, and I just know this isn't my style. I know there are kids, physically and socially more unattractive me who have made out with tons of more girls, and not strictly the hussies. However, my track record is hussie-free, and actually mostly free of anyone.

My my blue thunder
My my blue thunder
My my blue thunder
Singin out aloud

I guess, in truth, I would really enjoy having someone to go on dates with again. I really would like to take a girl out to City Place, or bowling, or to some watching of some cinéma vérité, or perhaps "The Incredibles." I think I would just like a girl to make me want to go after her. I know I'm able to really like a girl, even though there has been a ever-so small amount of girls who I could honestly say that about. Insipiration in the form of a wonderful girl is all I need. But as of right now, I don't like anybody, really, and because of that, I kind of feel like I'm dead weight right now in the world of love. Just drifting, I suppose.

I'll drive so far away
I'll drive so far away
I'll drive so far away
I'll drive so far away

In the long run, I don't think I will have to worry about the ladies. I believe, or at least hope, that there is someone out there for me. There's probably a considerable amount of lameness in this entry. But for once, I really don't care, and you can make fun of me about what I have said if you care to, honestly. I guess I was just thinking about this, and I thought to myself, "Hot diggity Drew Cool for School, you need to address this issue in your faithful friend, livejournal." So I really hope everyone who is reading this doesn't have to relate to it, because that would likely mean their lovelife was more exciting than mine, for better or for worse. Oh life, why can't I just find my own personal Shelby Woo?

Blue thunder
Blue thunder
Blue thunder
Blue thunder

Drew R.
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(no subject) [Oct. 27th, 2004|11:51 pm]
[music |rahsaan roland kirk]

To quote Captain and Tenille, love will keep us together.

I love you, 2004 Boston Red Sox.
I love you, Veronica Mars.
I love you, AP English grade.
I love you, after-game sing-alongs on bus rides home from football games.
I love you, bitchin' halloween costume.
I love you, father's old record collection.
I love you, kids who are coming down to party this weekend.
I love you, Caloosa Park racquetball courts.
I love you, almost finished college applications.
I love you, all of you. (Except Mel Martinez, he's a real cocksucker motherfucker.)

Love,
Drew R.
link4 comments|post comment

(no subject) [Oct. 21st, 2004|10:47 pm]
[music |sun city girls]

Let's do this the LJ-way!

Nuggets of Drewness:

- Economics is lamoid.
- David Ortiz is more than welcome to father my children.
- Racquetball is the sport of champions, truly.
- Yolanda's comments on the Asian-American who is on the Apprentice make me laugh.
- When I grab the microphone, I just can't stop.
- Girls at Atlantic are sort of ugh. Scratch that, very ugh.
- First practice for Keith and mine's professional Sting team is next week, hopefully.
- Battle of the Sexes has nothing on Le Inferno.
- Emo Sax Kid and Flavia Flav are the cutest couple ever, right next Double K.
- I wish that the Squall was out by now.
- Preparing for ACT is weak, like clock radio speakers.
- My 850-word article on Wu-Tang is perhaps the pinnacle of my writing career.
- Anatomy is actually sort of interesting, but not as interesting as the chemistry between you and me baby.
- That last nugget was horrible.
- Nothing brightens up my day than English class and shamelessly hitting on the Christian cuties.
- Lunch on even days is perhaps my favorite time of the school day. Thanks kids.
- Fuck the Yankees.

Well, now that sounded like a Larry King column.

Huggles and Kisses,
Drew R.
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(no subject) [Oct. 11th, 2004|11:02 pm]
[music |Daedelus]

Hey.

So for the few cats out there who didn't know, I spent my weekend in one of the better cities in the world, Boston. The trip had its ups and downs, but it was refreshing to get away from Florida for a smidgen of time.

We went up to visit my brother at college, but he was busy the whole weekend basically with planning stuff for the band and other events. He is a great guy though, and a wonderful brougham. My parents were at odds the whole time, which sucked and could have ruined the trip with me. But I love Boston. It's the town I've been to the most in my life outside of Palm Beach County. It was amazing watching the Red Sox game in a Boston pub and seeing what real sports fans were like, not the fucking fairweather-kind we have down here. On Saturday night, I went out with this one Harvard girl who my family is friends with, and went downtown with a shitload of Boston kids. Back Bay is a great place at night, and even though we didn't do much of importance, it was refreshing to know that there are cool kids up in Beantown. There were a few girls checking me out on campus, but these were Harvard ladies, so it was not that flattering. They were good fucks though.

Just playing, Scooby.

Scene points, perhaps? )


So it's time for Drew Cool for School to go back to school. If it's any consolation, I missed some of you guys while I was away. I have a lot of stuff on my mind, but it's all good, I suppose.

Drew R.

P.S. Rodney Dangerfield died. I guess that means no "Rover Dangerfield Part Deux." Christopher Reeves died, as well. I guess, in the end, he really did kneel before Zod. Toodles!
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